


The Best of All Possible Futures

by elrhiarhodan



Series: The Wonder(ful) Years Verse [25]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alcoholism, Domesticity, F/M, Friendship, M/M, New Baby, Pregnancy, Slash, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Wonder(ful) Years story, and set a few years after the events in <a href="http://elrhiarhodan.livejournal.com/375831.html">The Strength To Dream is All That Remains</a>, Neal tells Peter a secret, Peter keeps a secret, and everything works out just fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best of All Possible Futures

“By the way, Amy’s pregnant.” Neal casually dropped that bombshell over morning coffee and the New York Times.

“I trust you’re not the father.” Peter didn’t even bother looking up from the crossword puzzle. It was Friday and the puzzle was slightly more challenging. “I wonder who is, though.”

“It’s Jack.”

That got Peter’s attention and he put down the paper. “Jack? You mean Jack Franklin? The guy we work with? Why would Jack Franklin be the father of Amy Grainger’s baby, if she really is pregnant?” 

Neal laughed. “Umm, because they’ve been dating for the last two years?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“How did I not know this? I mean, they’ve been friends of sorts, but dating?” Peter tried to pinpoint a memory of Jack and Amy behaving as anything more than close colleagues and he couldn’t find one. 

“For someone with such extraordinary powers of observation, you’re particularly dense when it comes to things like this.” Neal chuckled, taking the sting out of his words. 

“I guess, but are you sure?” He had a hard time believing it.

“Yes, I’m certain. I’ve known about the two of them for a while. Amy and I’ve even talked about it.”

“Really? When?”

“Right after … the thing ... that happened. You know …” Neal’s voice trailed off.

Peter did know and didn’t say anything more. Neal didn’t like to talk about that time in their lives. “I can’t believe she told you that she and Jack are dating.”

“Well, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out. And it’s pretty obvious if you know what to look for. They do everything possible not to interact in meetings, in the field, but Jack’s always handing her folders and she generally just scribbles something in them and gives them back a few minutes later. It’s like they’re in high school and passing notes.”

Peter recalled seeing them do that a number of times and nothing struck him as unusual. Agents asked each other for reviews and sanity checks all the time. “I still don’t get how you figured out they were dating.”

Neal just shrugged. “Her eyes follow him, but he makes an effort not to look at her in meetings. He gives up his seat for her, but then goes and stands at the opposite end of the room. For the past few years, she’s the only agent Jack doesn’t ask to go out for drinks on Friday nights, but she’s always there.”

Peter had to agree. “But pregnant? I know Amy stopped drinking – she’s been sober for years. So what gave it away, Sherlock?”

“She’s switched from tonic water and lime to ginger ale. And it’s not diet, either.” 

“Okay… But come on, that doesn’t mean she’s pregnant. She’s not eating weird things and she’s still wearing those crazy heels and short skirts. You can’t tell me you figured it out all by her new Friday night beverage.” Peter shook his head. Neal was known for his amazing leaps of deduction, but this seemed almost implausible.

“All right. I overheard her talking to her doctor. She was in the file room and didn’t realize I was also there. She’s just three months along.”

Somehow, knowing that Neal got his information the old-fashioned way, by eavesdropping, improved Peter’s mood. “You think she’s going to go through with the pregnancy?”

Neal grimaced. “Is that really our business?”

“No, but I can’t help but wonder. Amy’s not exactly maternal.” Peter thought better of his comment. “And you’re right, it’s not our business.”

“I guess I don’t have to tell you not to say anything to Jack.”

“You don’t think he knows?”

“I’m positive he doesn’t.” Neal finished his coffee and got up, pressing a kiss on Peter’s temple as he walked by.

“Humph.” He picked up the newspaper, not the least bit distracted by the thought of his possibly pregnant colleague and her secret and currently ignorant boyfriend, and set his mind to finishing the crossword puzzle. Last clue filled in, Peter dropped the paper back onto the table and went upstairs to finish dressing. Might as well get the day started.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was three AM on a Wednesday at the dark end of October and Peter was stuck in the surveillance van. Just because he’d been promoted and given his own task force to run didn’t mean he got out of working the beta shift a few times a month. At least he wasn’t alone. Amy was sharing the duty and she was a decent companion. They’d been working together long enough that they had their own rhythm. She didn’t make idle conversation and he didn’t insist on listening to the replay of Monday’s Giant’s game.

In the three weeks since Neal had clued him in on Amy’s condition and her sub-rosa relationship with Jack, Peter kept an eye on both of them. He still wasn’t sure that Neal wasn’t playing a joke on him, except for the fact that Neal wasn’t a prankster and even if he was, he was too decent to use another colleague like that.

It was three AM and he was hungry. 

There was really only one good thing about beta shift – he could have a deviled ham sandwich and no one (meaning Neal) would complain. He opened the insulated bag and took out a thermos of coffee, black and extra strong, and his perfectly made sandwich. It was on white bread, of course, with tangy mayo on one side, spicy mustard on the other, and nothing healthy like lettuce or tomato to get in the way. He did have to admit that it was rather pungent, but the van had a decent air circulation system and it wasn’t as if scores of other agents hadn’t stunk up the place with equally fragrant meals over the years.

“Jesus, Burke … what the hell are you eating?”

Amy’s cry of outrage interrupted the pleasure of his very first bite. He chewed and swallowed. “My dinner?”

“Well, your dinner smells disgusting.”

He shrugged in apology and took another bite.

“Seriously, Peter – that smells rancid.” She made gagging sounds that didn’t sound all that fake.

“Nope, it’s good. Made it fresh this morning.” Peter replied around a mouthful of food.

“Well – ” Amy bolted across the van and out the passenger door.

“Shit.” Peter dumped the sandwich back in the bag and followed Amy onto the street. She was bent over a sidewalk trashcan, losing her own dinner. He held her head until she finished.

“Damn.” 

Peter handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her mouth. Thankfully, she didn’t try to give it back to him.

He helped her back into the van and gave her the bottle of water he’d also packed with his meal. “I’m sorry – I thought you were just giving me a hard time about my dinner.”

In the blue-green lights from the computer displays and the fluorescents overhead, Amy looked ragged and worn out. Pretending that Neal hadn’t told him anything, Peter asked, “Virus?”

Amy didn’t answer at first, taking a few small sips of water. “I only wish that was the case.” She put the bottle down and buried her face in her hands.

“What’s going on?” 

She looked up, apparently irritated at his display of ignorance. “You might as well be the first to know – after me and my doctor. I’m pregnant.”

“Ah.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Peter’s stomach clenched. She was looking for help and advice and he thought he’d be the last person qualified to give it. “Do you want this?”

She sat up and rested her hand over her still-flat belly. “I don’t know. I think so. Maybe.” She sighed. “I’d be crazy to bring a child into the world.”

“Why?”

“Me, a mother? Can you imagine anyone with fewer maternal instincts?”

Peter winced and hoped it didn’t show. Amy was echoing the same sentiments he’d expressed to Neal. “I don’t believe that people are naturally born to be parents or not to be parents.”

“Stop with the Oprah bullshit, Peter.”

“Okay – but I think you’re selling yourself short. It’s not about being the embodiment of motherhood. You are an excellent agent –”

“Being a good agent isn’t exactly the right qualification for raising a child.”

“No? I’d think that the qualities that make you a good agent would also make you a good mother.”

“Really?” She scoffed at him.

“Seriously, Amy. You’ve got a strong ethical core, you know how to temper the law with justice. It’s not all black and white with you. You care about people, deeply. You try to hide that, but I know you do.”

She shrugged and looked away from him. “Those don’t exactly sound like motherly qualities. Besides, I’m a recovering alcoholic, Peter. I will _always_ be a recovering alcoholic. Not exactly the best qualifications for motherhood.”

“It doesn’t _disqualify_ you, either. Like you said, you’re recovering, Amy. How long has it been since you’ve had a drink?”

“I’ve been sober for six years. But the craving is there all the time. What if I can’t handle motherhood? What if I start drinking again?”

“What if you don’t? What if you’re stronger than that?” 

She shook her head. “I suppose you’re dying to know who the father is.”

Peter decided it wasn’t worth playing coy. “Jack Franklin?”

“I guess Caffrey told you about Jack and me a long time ago. Thanks for keeping it under wraps.”

“Actually, Neal didn’t tell me about you and Jack until a few weeks ago.”

She stared at him, eyes narrowed. “Huh? And why would Neal have just told you that, after so long? Did it just come up in casual conversation over the morning coffee, ‘By the way, did you know that Grainger and Franklin are screwing?’ ”

Peter winced. “Kind of. Sort of.”

“Really? That’s …” Amy threw up her hands, at a loss for words.

Peter debated whether to tell Amy that Neal knew she was pregnant and decided against it. No need to make her any more upset than she already was. “If you want, you can head home. I can manage the rest of the shift on my own.” 

“No, I’m fine. Just – no coffee, okay? The smell…”

“Okay.” Peter packed the thermos away. He could make it through the next few hours without the caffeine boost. At least he hoped he could.

They settled back into observation mode, although there really wasn’t anything to observe. It was just audio surveillance. There were pen registers on the suspect’s phones and computer equipment.

“Can I ask you a question, Peter?”

“I guess.”

“You and Caffrey...” She just let that hang.

“Me and Neal, what?” He wasn’t sure where this was leading, but he was trying to be a friend and held on to his impatience.

“How –” 

He turned and looked at her, one eyebrow raised. He hoped she wasn’t asking what he thought she might be asking.

“How did you know you loved him?”

“Huh?” That was the question he least expected from her.

“Was it love at first sight? I mean I can understand lust. He’s sex on a stick – and don’t get your shorts in a knot over that – but I know it’s more than that. I can see what you mean to each other. It gives me hope that decent people can fall in love and be happy. And I’ll deck you if you repeat that.”

Peter had to laugh. Sick and tired and worried, Amy could still kick ass, and then some. 

“Well?”

“Neal and I – it’s not how you think.’

“You mean it’s not the fairy tale to end all fairy tales?”

Peter just blinked.

“Whoops, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was talking about the true love and happily ever after crap.”

“Ah.”

“So, your eyes didn’t meet across a crowded room? You didn’t just fall into each other’s arms and declare your undying devotion? You didn’t wake up one morning and think that this was the one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with?”

“Nope.” He didn’t know if he should keep teasing her. 

“Then how?” She was pleading, just a little.

“I think I told you that Neal and I shared a house when we were in grad school, but we knew each other long before that. We were lovers for almost half a decade by then, and friends for a lifetime before that.” Peter relished the moment, the memories. “I first met Neal Caffrey when I was in fourth grade.” 

The stunned look on Amy’s face was priceless. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“He was my best friend from the time we were in junior high school.”

“So, you’re – what – gay for each other? Is that what they call it?”

Peter expected that question. It wasn’t something he hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re both homosexuals. We were just lucky to find each other.”

“Hmmm.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, I guess this is the night for true confessions.” Amy grimaced. “Jack and me, we’ve been dating – kind of – for a while. It’s all been kind of casual, in a way. Except that last week, he asked me to marry him. Without even knowing about the baby. It kind of blew me away. I mean … I knew we were more than friends with benefits, but I wasn’t sure about what he felt. He told me I should think about it, and even if the answer was ‘no,’ we could go on like we had been.”

“How do you feel about him?”

“That he could be the one for me, but I don’t know if I could be the one for him. I’ve got a lot of baggage, Peter. I don’t want to make his life a misery.”

“Really? We’re back to that? Isn’t this just a way to preempt your own happiness?”

“What the hell would you know about that? You met your soul mate when you were ten.”

Peter exploded in anger. “Do you think it’s all been sunshine and roses? Until three years ago, we’ve had to treat each other like total strangers in the office. If you don’t think that didn’t take its toll on us, think again. We’re forced to live in the shadows, Amy. Because we’re both men, we’re second class citizens. We’ve been incredibly lucky in some ways, but whatever you and Jack can have; Neal and I have to settle for something a hell of a lot less in most people’s eyes. The best we can have is a ‘commitment ceremony’ that means absolutely squat.” 

He barely paused for breath. “Did you know that if Neal gets sick or hurt, I could be banned from visiting his hospital room? We’ve been together for almost twenty years and I have no right to make any medical decisions for him without a written declaration. Our employer, the goddamned U.S. Government, has made it law that people like are us not entitled to the same rights as you and Jack and everyone else. So, don’t whine to me that you’re ‘damaged goods’ and you might make Jack’s life miserable.”

Embarrassed by his own diatribe, Peter fell silent. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I am. You asked me for my advice and I made it all about my own issues. That’s not fair.”

“No, you’re right. I’m the one putting obstacles in my own way.” Amy sighed.

The van’s heater kicked in, it was noisy, but the warmth was welcome in the predawn October morning.

“It’s not like you have to decide anything right now, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.” She again rested a hand over her stomach. “I think I want this baby. I think I want this more than I’ve wanted anything else in my entire life.”

Peter had to ask. “What about Jack?”

“I’m going to tell him. This week, Friday night. He should know - and if he doesn’t want to marry me, then fine. I can do this on my own.”

“Yes, you can. But you’ve got friends. Remember?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re okay, Peter Burke, you know that? You’re pretty damned okay.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“You ready?” Peter put on his suit jacket and double-checked himself in the bedroom mirror. Neal was apparently stuck in the closet.

Neal called out, “Give me a sec.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I bought a card for the baby the other day. I thought I left it in my suit pocket, but I can’t find it.”

“It’s out here, on the dresser. I found it on the floor.”

Neal left the closet. Peter blinked and his jaw fell open. 

“What’s the matter?”

“Umm, new suit?”

“Yeah, it is. Didn’t think you’d notice.”

Peter leered at Neal. “How could I not? You look gorgeous.” Over the last few years, there’d been a distinct trend away from formal business attire. Even the FBI had embraced a more casual dress code, but not Neal. He refused to give up his bespoke suits, his handmade silk ties and French-cuffed shirts. And Peter was particularly glad of that, especially today. The new suit was a shade lighter than navy, which made his eyes glow. It was cut tight across the chest and fitted at the back and shoulders, emphasizing Neal’s physical perfection. The jacket was long, but the way it hung brought the eye to his high, tight ass. Neal’s long legs were on display, and the cuffs broke perfectly over the tops of his size 13 shoes. 

After so many years together, Peter had to admit that while he really couldn’t care less about what _he_ wore, he was always intensely interested in Neal’s attire for the sheer aesthetic pleasure of it.

Neal must have picked up on Peter’s interest. “Down, boy. We don’t have time for that. Not unless you want to be late for your godson’s bris.”

“I don’t think we’re technically the baby’s godfathers because Judaism doesn’t have godparents, right?”

“Whatever… Jack and Amy have asked us to be the equivalent, and it wouldn’t be nice to be late because you’re horny.”

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, explaining the delay to the rabbi might be problematic.” He went to the dresser and retrieved the card Neal had bought. “I think this is what you’re looking for.”

“Thanks. Got a pen?” 

He rummaged around the valet on the bureau and found one. Neal signed the card and let Peter do the same. “You buy a bond or something?” Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do for a new baby?

Neal grinned at him. “Or something.” He tucked that “something” into the card and sealed it. Peter figured it was a check. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

Neal had hired a limo for the trip out to Long Island, where Jack and Amy had bought a house. As the car pulled away from the curb, Peter looked at his partner and wondered if the traffic gods would smile on them. He pulled Neal into his arms and they were both hard and breathless by the time the limo got stuck in traffic on the 59th Street Bridge. 

Neal pushed him away with a laugh. “Slow down…”

“Don’t you dare say I move too fast.” Peter couldn’t help himself.

And apparently Neal couldn’t either. “You really ought to learn how to make the morning last.”

He groaned at Neal’s pun and leaned back. “I suppose we’re both too old to be giving each other hickeys in the back seat of a limo like it was prom night.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t I just say that we really shouldn’t be trying to shock the rabbi?” Neal smirked.

“Yup.” The traffic eased up as they got off the bridge. “And talk about moving too fast, I still can’t believe that Amy gave birth on the conference room table.”

Neal shook his head in disbelief. “I think I heard Hughes muttering about canceling a staffing rec and using the money for a replacement table.” 

The day it happened, the conference room had been decorated in pink and blue streamers. There was cake, but no champagne, which had nothing to do with the fact that this was a government facility and everything to do with the fact that they were celebrating the impending birth of Amy and Jack’s baby.

The mother-to-be kept pacing around the table, moving a little too quickly for a woman well into her ninth month. Peter had little experience with pregnant women, but he thought they were supposed to be placid and broody, like chickens. Amy was not – she was irritable, uncomfortable and impatient. “If this baby doesn’t come soon, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She had glared at Peter, who was trying to get her to sit down. “Have you seen my husband?”

“I think he’s taking your loot down to the car.” The office staff and the agents were surprisingly generous in their baby shower gifts. Amy had been scheduled to go out on maternity leave, starting that day. Jack had asked him to stay with his wife until he came back, leaving him with the terrifying aside, “She could pop at any moment, you know.”

A few weeks ago, Jack had confided to Peter that his only regret about his lost bachelorhood was giving up the vintage Ferrari he owned and had lovingly restored. “No point in keeping it, not with the little one on the way. We need a minivan, not a sports car.” They ended up with a huge Ford Explorer - not precisely a minivan. The damn thing could probably hold an entire little league team, or maybe just the right amount of stuff a baby needed.

Amy had grimaced and reached around to put a hand on the small of her back.

Peter hadn’t liked the looks of that grimace. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You only think so? You’re not sure?” 

She snarked at him, “What? Are you an obstetrician now?”

Peter held up his hands in a traditional defensive posture. Impending motherhood hadn’t mellowed their colleague one bit. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

Thankfully Neal came into the conference room and joined them. Peter was more than welcome to turn over watching-Amy duties. “What’s going on?”

Amy just grimaced again.

Neal had peered at her and asked, “You okay?”

She looked at both of them. “You’re like a pair of little old men, hovering over me. I’m fine.” 

Peter didn’t think so when she made that face again. “Amy?” He said her name softly, as if he were afraid to spook her. “Are you in labor?”

She bit her lip and finally nodded. “Yeah. It’s been a few hours, but the contractions are very far apart. I could be doing this for another thirty-six hours. There’s nothing to panic about.”

Despite her reassurances, Peter could feel himself starting to panic. “Don’t you think you should go to the hospital? Or start breathing? Or lie down?”

“Guys, it’s a first baby and they take forever. But if it’ll make you feel better to know, I’ve called my doctor. He told me not to come in until my water breaks.”

Peter felt all the blood drain out of his face. “Your water?”

“Oh, god - you guys. You’re such pansies. You’d think …” She bit her lip and winced. “Shit.”

“Shit, what?” Neal was still hovering, his hands flailing. 

“My water just broke.” All three of them had looked down; there was a small puddle between her feet. “I guess it is time to go to the hospital.”

Except that Amy hadn’t made it to the hospital. Before they could hustle her to the elevator, she’d doubled over from another contraction and Neal called 9-1-1. By the time the EMTs arrived, her contractions were minutes apart, and the medical personnel decided it was too risky to transport her halfway across town.

A half-hour later, Baby Boy Franklin made his squalling appearance in the 21st floor conference room, to the stunned disbelief of his mother and father and an office filled with horrified FBI agents and support staff.

Peter laughed and shook his head at the memory. Neal, though, seemed to have other things on his mind. He looked downright pensive. Peter asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, I know you. I know that look. It’s not nothing.”

“Do you ever wonder?”

“About what?” Peter was feeling especially clueless.

“If you would have been a good father?”

_Ah_. “No, I haven’t.”

“You never thought about children, not once? You never wondered if you were missing out on anything?”

“Neal, what’s the matter? Do you think about it?”

“It’s crossed my mind, just briefly. I sometimes wonder if I would have been a good dad. As good a dad as yours. As the memories of my own father.”

Peter wanted to pull Neal into his arms, to chase away the sadness. “Do you want kids? Seriously?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t think I would have been a bad parent, but I don’t think I would have been a good one, either. There’s a lot I’m not willing to give up.”

Peter understood. “Your career.”

“Or yours.” Neal gave him a wry smile. 

“I think, for the record, that you’d be a very good father.”

Neal sighed and leaned against him. “Thanks.”

The conversation made Peter feel a little melancholy. It wasn’t that he wanted children or even ever thought about having children. It just seemed like a door was closing. Or maybe not. “We’ll be terrific godparents, thought. We’ll spoil the kid rotten. Take him to Yankee games and let him have cotton candy and corn dogs and teach him how to spit out the shells from the sunflower seeds.”

“You can do that. I’ll take him to the Met, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

Peter only hoped that Jack and Amy would really let them be part of their lives, their son’s life. 

The limo pulled up in front of a brick colonial with a large front yard. This was clearly the place, there was a huge bouquet of blue and silver balloons tied to the curbside mailbox and it looked like someone had decorated Jack’s new Explorer with baby blue crepe streamers and more balloons. A half-dozen other cars were parked along the street.

“Shall we?” They got out and Neal gave the driver instructions to come back in three hours.

The living room was filled with an assortment of the new parents’ relatives; Peter recognized some of them from Jack and Amy’s wedding. As they were introduced, it surprised him that he and Neal were the only people from the office.

Jack, as proud as any new father, couldn’t wait to introduce them to his son.

“You really didn’t get a chance to meet him, so here’s Michael James Franklin. Isn’t he gorgeous.”

Peter watched his friend and colleague coo at the little red blob of humanity in the bassinet. “He’s certainly …” Neal elbowed him in the ribs. “Handsome. Thank goodness he takes after his mother.”

Jack didn’t rise to the good natured insult. “Yeah, he’ll be a heartbreaker when he gets a little older.”

“How’s Amy feeling?”

“A little tired, but well. She’ll be out in a few. There’s food and stuff, so go help yourselves.” Jack scooped up his son like a pro and started taking him around the room.

Peter sighed. He hated these things, he wasn’t great at socializing and making small talk, even with people he knew. A crowd of near-strangers was just that much worse. Neal, though, was in his element, captivating the small children in the room with some slight-of-hand tricks.

Amy finally made an appearance, and Peter went over to say hello. “You doing okay?”

She smiled, looking disconcertingly radiant. “Yeah, I am. I really am.”

“You’re happy?”

“More numb and stunned at this point, but overall, I am.” Jack came over and she reached for her son. 

This time, Peter didn’t hesitate. ““He’s beautiful, Amy,”

“I bet Caffrey told you to say that, because you’re thinking that he’s a bit of a bald blob.”

“Umm…” Peter desperately wanted to agree, but knew he shouldn’t.

“Well, it’s the truth. He is a bald blob, but he’s mine and I think he’s wonderful.” 

Caught up in a tide of sappiness, Peter agreed. “He is, and so are you. Both of you.”

“Want to hold him?” 

“I, uhhh –” Before he could object, Michael James Franklin was placed into his arms. Peter was afraid to move. The baby yawned and squirmed and Peter was terrified he was going to fall out of his arms.

“Don’t worry – you’ve got him.”

Peter stood there, feeling utterly helpless. Neal, on the other side of the room, happened to look up at that moment, and smiled at the sight of him. Of course he had to come and join them. And of course, Peter couldn’t wait to hand the baby off to Neal, who took little Michael like an expert, smiling and cooing like he’d done this every day of his life. Peter almost wished the baby would spit all up over Neal’s brand new, custom-made suit. 

Just when he was wondering when the ceremony was going to start, the mohel arrived. To Peter’s surprise, he wasn’t some ancient, long bearded rabbi dressed in the traditional black garb, but a woman about his age, who was introduced as _Doctor_ Anita Goldbaum. The procedure was mercifully quick, and poor baby Michael woke up and cried for a few moments before falling back to sleep. Peter wanted to cup his hand over his groin in sympathy, and then stifled a laugh as a few of the other men in the room did exactly that.

They socialized for a few hours, and Peter was surprised to realize how late it had gotten. People were leaving and a quick check out the front window told him that the limo was waiting. He went looking for Neal so they could make their goodbyes. He found him with Jack, Amy and the baby in the nursery.

“Neal, we can’t take this –” Jack was trying to make Neal take back a piece of paper.

“You can and you will. Aren’t Peter and I Michael’s godparents?”

“Well, yeah, sort of, but this is really too much.”

Peter didn’t have to wonder what was too much. He should have figured that Neal wasn’t giving the baby a fifty dollar U.S. Savings Bond. They hadn’t discussed any sort of gift, mostly because Peter hated to talk about Neal’s inheritance, but he had no issue with how Neal chose to spend it. “Problems?”

“You and your partner are too generous.”

“No, we’re not.” He went to Neal and slung an arm over his shoulder. 

Neal gave him a grateful look before turning back to their friends. “ _We’ve_ set up a little trust for the baby – something for his college fund.”

“Something? You call this ‘something’? You’re crazy.” Jack shook the paper at both men.

Peter interrupted. “No, we’re not. Neal and I - we’re never going to be parents. Little Michael here is the closest we’re going to get.” He reached out and ran a finger down the baby’s cheek. “We want to make sure that his future’s secure.” 

Neal added. “You’re our friends, you matter to us. Why shouldn’t we do this.”

Amy seemed like she was about to cry. “But I treated you like such a piece of –” She looked down at the baby in her arms and cut herself off.

“That’s the past. This little guy’s your future. We’re your friends and nothing else should matter.”

Jack looked at the piece of paper he’d been trying to get them to take back. Peter could see that it wasn’t a check, but a brokerage statement. “I think you’re crazy, Caffrey. You too, Burke. But this – this means something. Thank you.”

Amy let out a watery chuckle. “This doesn’t let you off the hook, you know. You’re going to be here for all the milestones, you can’t buy your way out of them. Every school play and concert and graduation. Little league games and soccer games and all the stuff that goes along with being part of our lives.”

Peter grinned and looked at Neal, who seemed equally delighted. “We wouldn’t want it any other way.”

__

Fin


End file.
